


Don't You Know Who I Think I Am

by KilltheDJ



Category: Danger Days: The True Lives of the Fabulous Killjoys - My Chemical Romance (Album), My Chemical Romance
Genre: but kobra needs sleep and once hes sleep deprived all bets are off, let them be this is just How They Are, no ships just Dumbasses Being Dumbasses, only sometimes its bc its Bad or Embarrassing, party and kobra just have a habit of not telling people things yknow?
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-08
Updated: 2019-09-08
Packaged: 2020-10-12 22:07:45
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,794
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20571677
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/KilltheDJ/pseuds/KilltheDJ
Summary: Or, Kobra asks an uncomfortable question, and eventually Jet realizes he knows nearly nothing about the past lives of the Venom Brothers.





	Don't You Know Who I Think I Am

“If we were ever captured, which of us would break first?”

There were two types of Kobra Kid when he was tired: there was the kid who would take everyone’s jackets and blankets and complain he was still too cold until someone paid attention to him and cuddled him, and there was the killjoy with an uncomfortable question on the tip of his tongue. 

Tonight, clearly, it was the killjoy with an uncomfortable question - the rest of the Fabulous Killjoys could tell the moment the syllables fell off his lips, trading hesitant glances. 

Kobra was lying on the top of the cabinet left in the old storage room of the Diner (how he got up there, no one would ever know), fingers tracing patterns into a ceiling grimy with years of neglect. The rest of the crew were sitting criss cross on the floor, having been playing a game of Two Truths And A Lie that devolved into old stories from before any of them had met. 

Silence fell when Kobra asked. Who could answer honestly? Why would they ever think about that?

“...I think it’d be me,” Jet said quietly, eyes downcast as Ghoul and Party looked at him in shock; Kobra too preoccupied with his imaginary lines. 

“Why?” Kobra mused idly, no hint of concern or shock or refusal. Made sense. Kobra began to lack reactionary emotions after a few days of overworking himself and no sleep. 

Jet hesitated, but answered anyway, before Party or Ghoul could open their mouths to refute his claim. “Party is too much of a revolutionist. He’d claw his own skin open to show them they can never take his color before he gives up anything. Ghoul is too...Ghoul grew up without any family. He had to learn to survive, and had so much anger but nowhere to direct it and then he had a cause. What can they do that’s so much worse than setting off a bomb way too close? He’s already done that. Eight times now, right? And you - you’re Party’s brother, but you’re his opposite. Party tears himself apart to show they can’t break them. You’d conform, you’d make them think they broke you, then you’d turn right around and stab them in the back all without ever giving up anything you didn’t have to.”

Silence from Kobra. Jet awkwardly crossed his arms and darted his eyes around. 

“...Not true. Definitely not true,” Ghoul shook his head, laughing slightly. “So not true!”

Curiously, Jet tilted his head to wait for Ghoul to explain. Even Kobra sat up on his elbows, turning to look at Ghoul (though never brushed the hair out of his eyes. He was blind like that.)

Ghoul explained when no one responded. “Dude, yeah, sure, screw the City and all, and boo-hoo I’ve got a few scars that I never want to go through again, but - seriously? All they would have to do is threaten you guys and I might as well be a search engine for ‘em! Jet, you...you would assume it was a bluff. You would be able to lie and you’d be able to make them think you gave them relevant info. Me? Not so much.”

“I can second that,” Party added before Jet could start discourse. “Er - not the Ghoul being a search engine part! I have a little more faith than that, but not really...Anyway, no, yeah, I’ll drive myself insane before they can force shit down my throat but once I do go insane they can do whatever they want to my psyche or whatever. I’m screwed, Ghoul’s screwed, what about you Kobra?”

Kobra hummed, squinting at them before huffing to himself, bringing his hand up to his face and then awkwardly, as if it hadn’t been the intention, brushing his hair back. Attempting to push his glasses up. Kobra hadn’t had glasses since he was twelve. “Oh, me? They’ll just use me to get to you, kill me after. Or maybe put me on display. Either way they won’t use me too much, there’s no point in interrogation.”

“...Why?” Jet asked, if only because, well, he knew Ghoul’s past and he knew Party’s past. Despite how entwined Kobra and Party’s City lives were, being brothers and all, Jet had never gotten the story of Kobra’s life before he was in the Zones.

Kobra shrugged, as well as he could sitting on his elbows. “I taught them how to interrogate. I know all the ins-and-outs and tips and tricks. Easier to just kill me, y’know? No liability that way. And they get Pois an’ probably you two, so.”

“Kobra, not to sound doubtful,” Ghoul deadpanned, sounding doubtful. “But you’re, like, a child. You didn’t teach them shit.”

“I’m a child prodigy,” Kobra corrected, not even with a scoff or a tsk or anything. Too sleep deprived to bother, Jet was betting. “‘N besides. I’m seventeen. Plenty old enough. Anyway, I’m tellin’ the truth. Ask Pois. We were in the same training level.”

“Training level?” Ghoul perked up, looking as confused as Jet felt. 

Did he know Party’s life as well as he thought he did? Did he know Kobra’s at all? Sure, it was no secret Kobra was the youngest of them and certainly uncomfortably talented at a few things, but...same ‘training level’? And Party was two years older than him...

Party cursed under his breath, and Jet pretended he didn’t notice. They’d been a crew for, what, a year now? Shouldn’t he know these things? “Really Kobes? So not the time!”

“Would you rather I talk about what you think I don’t know you did when we needed carbons?” Kobra said, no emotion but a slight upturned lip.

“Oh, don’t you dare!” Party hissed. He sounded a bit panicked, a bit embarrassed, a bit like Kobra hit an actual boundary he wasn’t supposed to dance on. Was Kobra functioning enough to care? 

“Why not?” Kobra asked, suddenly serious, making eye contact with Party - Jet caught his eye right before, and he realized, he realized quickly - no, no Kobra was not functioning enough to realize he was dancing on a boundary, and if he was, he was doing it deliberately now. “Ashamed, are you? I didn’t know you were the type.”

“And I didn’t know you were the type to deal drugs, but you know, here we are,” Party whispered, a bite to his voice. Jet saw there was nothing he could do there, so he looked to Ghoul - Ghoul looked just as alarmed as Jet. Kobra was too tired to try out the common sense Jet tried and tried to gift him with, and Party was...well, he was Party. Sometimes he was a bit too much to deal with, sometimes the passion was a bad thing. 

Deal drugs? Jet was so not following along to his conversation - did he want to? Kobra didn’t seem the type to have anything to do with drugs in general. But did Jet really know that?

Kobra laughed. A quiet, more of a huff of breath than a laugh, but it was a laugh nonetheless. It wasn’t mocking - it genuinely seemed like he had no idea he was starting to piss Party off. “It got us further than what you did. Do Jet and Ghoul even know about that?”

“Know about what?” Oh Ghoul, dumb, dumb Ghoul. Everyone knew not to interrupt Party and Kobra when they were bickering, or else you were in the center of attention. 

Party turned to snap at him - but something softened in his face before he could. Less tension, maybe from the confusion prominent on Ghoul. “Look, I...Used to do some things I’m not proud of when we were new to the Desert.”

“You pretended I didn’t know,” Kobra scoffed.

“And you smuggled things out of the City, you don’t see me judging you for it!” Party turned his gaze back to Kobra, harsh and full of a hidden sort-of hurt Jet had gotten to know in the year they’d been as a crew.

Apparently, it was one of the only things he’d learned.

Kobra scoffed, but didn't seem perturbed or bothered. He was always a bit better at hiding how he was feeling (read: way, way better than any of them could ever be), but when he was tired it was less acting and more actual indifference. You never knew. "You keep me on watch whenever we go anywhere near the Factory. It's just a different judgement."

"That's not judging! That's being worried! And I'm allowed to be worried!" But why would Party be worried? None of this was clicking in Jet's brain, none of this was clicking for Ghoul, either, considering they were both wearing the same confusion, painted ever-clearly .

"So should I be worried whenever you go to the Nest? Please, tell them what you're being so defensive about," Kobra nodded in the direction of Ghoul and Jet, who were staring quizzically at Party.

Party clenched his jaw, glaring slightly at his younger brother before turning back to the other two, to continue the explanation he may or may not have started earlier. "When...well...Those things I'm not proud of - "

"Get on with it," Kobra drawled.

Party turned to give him another glare. "Fine. So, I was a sex worker. But you know what? At least I wasn't the one who was dealing drugs to whoever paid and taking them too!"

Kobra sighed, not dramatically, but more...not tired, but exasperated. "Boo-hoo. We've been over this. And I already told you, it was recreational. Get over it. Why are we even talking about this?"

"You brought it up!" Party huffed, flipping his brother off.

Kobra simply gave a lazy, cat-like grin.

"....You were a sex worker?" Ghoul asked hesitantly, making eye contact with Party. Jet could almost feel the wave of embarrassment that rushed over Party, not used to Ghoul's complete and utter attention and concern. "How old were you?"

"It was a few years ago-"

"Three years ago."

"-It was three years ago, so sixteen, I guess -"

"Not counting what you did in the Lobby?"

"Okay! Fine! I was fourteen. Can you shut the Hell up now Kobra?" Party snapped, breaking his gaze away from Ghoul's and staring at the ground. 

Fortunately, it was extremely difficult to piss Kobra off, especially when he was tired - sometimes it was impossible to just annoy him, which was frankly inhuman and Jet wanted to steal that power with all the things he had to put up with sometimes -; he didn't look annoyed, and there was always that lack of body language skewing any assumptions. If Kobra had been annoyed, it was going to be a blow-up at another time.

"I"m gonna....Kobra, when was the last time you slept?" Jet asked, if only to change the subject. There were too many questions and too little answers with a side of bubbling curiosity and a dangerous boundary to cross with Party, the best thing to do was forget this conversation ever happened for the time being. 

With a roll onto his stomach, precariously close to the edge of the already unstable cabinet (it was old and a bit rickety, but it had yet to break under Kobra's weight, which wasn't too much of a surprise considering Kobra may be tall, but he was very lanky and as light as a feather), Kobra made a sound somewhere between "nu-uh" and "no". 

Jet clicked his tongue. "When was the last time you slept?" he repeated.

"Dunno," Kobra answered, and he sounded truthful. He lied easily though, but he was tired, but - ugh. Trying to figure out the Kobra Kid was like trying to walk into Bat City with hot pink hair and a radio. Impossible and doomed. 

"Can we go lay down then? I can lend you a few pillows," Jet smiled, knowing Kobra wasn't looking at him but hoping it would help his coercion anyway. 

"And now why would I do that?" Oh, great. He was going to be stubborn. He was impossible when he was stubborn. 

Jet sighed to himself. "Because you've already made us talk about the torture we'll probably go through in a few years and made your brother admit that he was a sex worker and that you were a drug dealer, while raising endless questions as to how well Ghoul and I actually know you two. I think you've done enough for tonight, don't you?"

"Could always add a little more chaos."

"The you tomorrow morning will not appreciate that, Kobes," Jet shook his head. "Y'know the guy who has to deal with Party's bad mood and all our questions? You might want to cut your losses and just go to sleep now. I swear, you act more drunk when you're tired than when you're actually drunk!"

"Maybe I am actually drunk and just didn't tell you," Kobra hummed, content in his own little world on top of the cabinet. His own little world on the cabinet, however, was in direct interference with Kobra's best interests. Once he was sleep deprived, it seemed he did not care what he said or did or even proclaimed. Inhibitions lowered like he was drunk.

"You're not," Jet said firmly. He knew this, they had all taken a collective crew day and stayed in this little room for most of the time, but he was reminding Kobra of this. "If we go lay down now I'll even snatch Party's jacket for you?"

"Party's jacket?" Kobra perked up immediately, his blond hair now back in his face, but he was looking at Jet for the first time, so it was a start. "Really?"

"Yeah, watch," Jet told him, with a nod and an enthusiastic smile. He turned to Party, who already seemed annoyed and resigned to giving up his precious Dead Pegasus jacket. "Well, one, you obviously just saw me promise him something, so can I have that? And two, why does he like your jacket so much?"

Sure, Kobra very well could've answered for himself, and with Kobra in his peripheral vision Jet knew he was paying attention to what Party's answer would be. Why did Party think Kobra liked the jacket?

Party shrugged. "I think it's a homey feeling, I guess. We used to have to huddle under my jacket at night so we didn't freeze."

“You did?” Jet said softly, not wanting anyone to immediately go on offense, like Party had a tendency to do when treading on topics he’d rather not talk about. When they’d first met, Kobra and Party were scrawny little things, underfed and homeless; they were still the infamous Venom Brothers, then, but underneath that layer of filth and snarls and, well, venom, that was what they were: scrawny kids.

How bad was it before then? Two years before then?

With a nod, Party started twirling a few strands of his hair. This was just embarrassing to admit, not a secret he’d been willing to take to the grave if no one ever figured it out like the sex working. “Yeah, not enough carbons to have a place, y’know? Had to spend it on food. It got cold at night, and my jacket was warm.”

“It was also nice to spend time with my brother,” said Kobra, prompting Jet to look at him again - he was lying on his back now, and there must’ve been blood rushing to his head because he was legitimately half-off the cabinet, feet planted on the ceiling to counteract his body weight tipping it over. “Never got to do that too much.”

“How about we talk about this tomorrow?” Ghoul suggested. Jet shared the sentiment. They could get the tragic pasts that formed the lives of two of the Desert’s most notorious killjoys later. For now, it was bedtime, and not just for Kobra. 

Jet caught the jacket Party threw at him, waving it at Kobra instead of saying ‘hey, fuckface, you’re going to pass out if you keep doing that and look, jacket, now get down from there!’, which was the initial instinct. 

Luckily for everyone within hearing range (including Jet Star himself), Kobra got the gist and climbed without too much damning language, but quite a few slips. He inevitably fell on his ass to the floor, looking confused as to how he got there. 

“Yeah….” Jet sighed, again, offering his hand to help Kobra up, but looking down at Ghoul. “I’ll take Kobra, how about you and Party go talk about his hidden trauma wherever? This might make more sense if we’re all a little more coherent than...well, Kobra. In general.”

“We’ll nap,” Party decided. 

Tomorrow was going to be a fun morning. What all did Jet not know?

**Author's Note:**

> I meant for this to be a drabble posted to Tumblr but then these Dumbasses kept their conversation going so now here I am, posting this in 4 in the afternoon with no editing. Have fun! Tell me what you think of these dumbasses, as always.


End file.
